“I’m going to see if I can relax a bit before Pastor Jedidiah gets here with the bus. I’m so tired.”
“I can sit with you. We could talk. Don’t you have questions? About the voice and stuff? It’s like we never...get to talk anymore.”
“On the trip, we’ll have lots of time.”
“But are you mad at me or something?”
“Why...would you ask me that?”
“I dunno, Vee. We haven’t really talked for weeks. Sometimes I think you’re mad at me.”
“Not mad...” She pauses, seemingly gathering her thoughts. “I mean, I already feel different. I do. And not just because of the shots of Nathaxopril. I can’t wait to see how things turn out. I do think I can live, Indigo. I’m excited to live. I really am.” She squeezes my shoulder and slowly exits the kitchen.
* * *
True to his word, Jedidiah pulls in front of our house with a paratransit bus. Alfred and I peek out the living room window, watching him park in the driveway.
“Sweet baby Jesus Christ in the manger, on Christmas morning layin’ in a pile of cold hay,” Alfred whispers.
Every square inch of the bus, aside from the front and rear windows, is painted. Rainbow colors are swirled around...eyes. Like...there are hundreds of tiny eyeballs painted onto the bus.
“It’s satanic!” Alfred hisses. “Ain’t no way I’m getting in that thing, Indi. Somebody from school could see me. They’d think I was in a cult or something.”
“Nobody can see inside,” I point out. “The windows are all covered with eyeballs.”
“Why, though?” Alfred flips a different Seahawks cap backward since he gave his favorite to Violet. This one is lime green too, but I swear it’s almost glowing. I seriously can’t understand why the Seahawks colors are fluorescent lime green and blue. That doesn’t even go together.
“Maybe it means something.” I try to comfort Alfred. “He’s always talking about interdimensional travel and ascended masters. Maybe the eyeballs represent, like...heaven.”
“Or hell.” Alfred scratches his elbows. “Thing’s giving me the creeps. Looks like eyeball pox. I gotta talk to Dad. This ain’t gonna work, man. Maybe we can follow behind you guys in the car.”
“Alfred.” I call after him but he’s already rushing up the stairs two at a time.
When I look back out the window, Drew has pulled up and parked on the side of the street. The back door slides open and the boys jump out onto the pavement, their matching backpacks strapped to their backs. They stare at the van in a mixture of awe and terror. Drew steps out of the van next. His jaw pretty much drops. Watching the three of them gawk at Jedidiah’s psychedelic paratransit experiment makes me laugh a little. My Canon Rebel T6 is hanging around my neck with a strap. I grab it and take a few snapshots of their horrified expressions.
Click-click.
“Good morning, Indigo.”
I twist to see Michelle looking bright and refreshed, dragging a giant suitcase behind her, holding a large bottle of water.
“Hi,” I mumble and turn back to the window, letting my camera dangle around my neck once again. She looks over my shoulder.
“That’s the bus?” She laughs. “Has Alfred seen that yet?”
“He called it eyeball pox, started scratching his elbows and ran off to find Dad.”
She laughs. Hard. “Oh, this is gonna be real interesting. Did you sleep well, Indigo? How’s your head?”
I give Michelle a perturbed eyebrow raise. “Um... I didn’t sleep well. My head hurts. Not as bad as yesterday, but it still hurts.”
“That’s a good sign. If it hurt worse, I’d be worried.” She reaches into the pocket of her dark blue jeans and hands me a baggie with two white pills inside. “If anybody asks, I didn’t give you these.”
“What are they?”
“Pain medicine.”
I stare at the bag of pills.
She laughs. “Girl, I’m not poisoning you, if that’s what you think. Dr. Dolittle prescribed you something similar but we haven’t had a chance to fill your prescriptions. This isn’t something you want to get in the habit of taking, but it’s fine for a day or two.”
I’m still not convinced these pills won’t kill me. It must be written all over my face because she says, “Look, Indigo. You want your headache gone. Take ’em. Or don’t, and have a headache all day. But that bus looks kinda old, so I doubt the shocks are new and improved. Might be a bumpy ride.”
I take the pills from her.
“And here’s some water.” She hands me the bottle of water.
I throw caution to the Seattle winds and hope to God they’re not laced with arsenic. I down the pair with a gulp of the water.
“I’d drink it all. It’ll help ’em go down easier.”
I down the whole bottle.
She takes the plastic bag from me and stuffs it back into her pocket. “How’s everything else? You feel light-headed, dizzy? Any brain fog?”
I set the empty water bottle in the windowsill. “No. I feel okay, other than the headache, I mean.” And the voice in my head.
“How was taking a bath with the cast?”
“Easier than I thought. I just rested it on the side.”
“Big improvement on your hair.”
I motion to the fact that I’m not wearing my sling. “Two hands are better than one.”
“Careful with your shoulder.” She nods. “Let me go find Alfred so he can help us load Violet’s medical supplies up on the bus.” She laughs again. “Eyeball pox.”
I watch her disappear up the stairs.
“See?”
I look up at the ceiling. “See what?”
“She was being nice. Told you she doesn’t hate you.”
I shake my head. “She wasn’t being nice. She was doing her job.”
“What job?”
“She’s a nurse. Duh.”
“Yeah. But is she your nurse?”
“Trust me. Nurses take a Hippocratic oath to uphold the sick even if they’d rather see them dead.”
“That is not in the Hippocratic oath.”
“Well, it’s something like that.” I pull on my North Face coat, move to the door and head outside.
It’s cold, cloudy, dismal: Seattle at its finest. My shoulder throbs. My head pounds. What a day for a road trip. Jedidiah and Drew are loading luggage up onto the bus. Jedidiah is wearing a heavy coat, gloves, a wool hat...and open-toed sandals? Unbelievable. He pushes his palms together and bows when he sees me. I move to stand beside Nam and Brandon.
“Namaste, Indigo.”
“Namaste to you too, Pastor,” I reply even though I don’t know what the hell namaste means.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He pounds on the side of the bus. “I got her nice and warm for you.”
“Morning, Indigo.” Drew smiles as he advances down the stairs of the bus to stand beside the boys. “How are you?”
“Better,” I say.
“What do all the eyes mean?” Nam yanks at the hanging tassels on his hat.
“The all-seeing eye.” Jedidiah rolls back on his heels. “Also known as the third eye or the sixth chakra. You see with your eyes but you see with your eye.” He points to his forehead and closes his eyes. “The eyes on the bus represent my spiritual vision and the vision you can all attain if you work hard enough.”
Nam looks up at Drew. “I wanna see with my third eye.”
“Yeah, Dad.” Brandon yanks on Drew’s coat. “I want three eyes.”
“Focus on the two eyes you’ve got and get on the bus.” Drew pushes Nam and Brandon up the stairs and climbs up after them, dragging the last suitcase behind him.
As I approach the doors of the bus, Pastor Jedidiah places both hands on my shoulders.
“How are you today, Indigo
? How are you feeling?”
“I’m good, Pastor.”
“Please. Call me Jed.”
“Uh...okay.” There is no way I’m calling this man Jed.
“I am honored to guide the Phillips family on this pilgrimage.” He reaches into his coat pocket and extracts a bottle of Trader Joe’s extra-virgin olive oil. “This oil has been blessed by the spiritual masters in our Himalayan division at New Faith International Church of Love and Light, Nepal.” He turns the bottle, allowing a few drops of oil to drip onto his finger. “I bless thee and thou.” He pushes his grease-soaked finger onto my forehead.
“Um.”
“Thou and thee.”
“Thank—” the oil drips down my forehead “—you.” I move past him and up the stairs into the bus. Once I’m sure he can’t see me, I wipe the oil off with the back of my hand. With my luck, I’ll have sprouted a giant pimple right on top of my third eye. Trader Joe’s olive oil is not meant for your face. I don’t care how many Himalayans blessed it.
I scope out the inside of the bus. It’s actually quite nice. Small. About sixteen seats total just like Pastor explained yesterday. The aisle is wide to accommodate a wheelchair moving up and down. In the back is a large empty space. The motorized all-terrain wheelchair is strapped to one side, sporting some seriously high-tech 4x4 wheels. And there’s room on the other side for another wheelchair.
I sink into one of the polyester upholstered seats and lean my head back. I blink. On the ceiling, one giant painted eyeball surrounded by glittery gold lettering that says, “See it, Grab it, Love it.”
“Cool slogan, right? You like it?”
“It sounds pornographic,” I whisper.
Nam stands over me. “How come your forehead looks all greasy, Aunt Indigo? Did you forget to wash your face?”
“I’ve been blessed by thou and thee,” I reply. “Not to be confused with those idiots thee and thou.”
“Who are thee and thou?” He sits beside me.
“Hey!” Brandon whines. “I was gonna sit by Auntie.”
I stand. “You guys should both sit here. Together. Away from me.”
“Why?” Brandon pushes his glasses up onto his nose. “So you can talk to all the voices in your head?”
“No. Because Rosa Parks and a bunch of other people fought hard so you could sit in the front of the bus.” I move to the back before they can object, scoot into a pair of seats and stretch out my legs, a clear symbol for nobody to sit by me. I stare out the window. At least I try to stare through the spaces between all the third eyeballs. Violet is being wheeled out of the house by Dad. Mom and Michelle follow close behind. Alfred trails even farther behind, lugging a bunch of Violet’s medical supplies, staring at the ground, shaking his head back and forth and muttering to himself, one hand over his eyes like it’s a bright sunny day and he’s trying hard to block out the sun. I feel like I should climb down to help or, I dunno...stare at them so it looks like I’m involved and assisting Violet, but I’m sure I’d just be in the way.
“How you hanging in there, champ?”
“I’m...” I look over the edge of the seat at Brandon and Nam; they’re completely engrossed in their iPads and Drew is talking on his cell. I look up at the ceiling. Thankfully, it’s a portion not filled with eye. “I’m nervous,” I whisper. “A lot is riding on this. I’m guiding everyone to Arizona. In some weird and crazy way, I’m in charge. I’m leading.”
“No. I’m guiding everyone to Arizona. I’m in charge. I’m leading.”
“Yeah, but it’s on me if this is a disaster. Not you.”
“Road trips are never disasters.”
“Be for real. Road trips are notoriously terrible.”
“Only in the movies. Not in real life.”
“If you say so.”
“Plus, you got the Jedi Master on the wheel. He’s a good driver. Best in the whole state.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, man. Plus, Violet planned every detail. What could possibly go wrong?”
“We could get a flat tire and drive off a cliff, we could break into a closed theme park and hold the security guard at gunpoint, or someone could die and we could stuff them in the trunk while I do a stripper dance to win the Little Miss Sunshine pageant.”
Brandon and Nam are now peeking over their seats, staring at me.
“I told you Aunt Indigo was crazy,” Brandon whispers.
“Stop lookin’ at me!” I snap. They quickly dip below their chairs and turn around, mumbling about what a wacko I am, I’m sure.
Mom and Michelle are the next up the stairs with enough luggage to move to Arizona. Both have Trader Joe’s brand blessed olive oil dripping down their foreheads. Both look none too happy about it either. Mom’s hair is pulled up into her signature, impeccably neat, silver bun on top of her head. When she sees me in the back she nods. I nod back. I feel like instead of mother and daughter, she’s Alexander Hamilton and I’m Aaron Burr and we’re about to have a death duel. Or an epic rap battle.
When Alfred climbs up the stairs behind them, he stuffs a bunch of Violet’s supplies under a pair of empty seats, moves all the way to the back, tosses his bag onto the floor and slumps into the seat across the aisle from me.
“I thought you and Dad were gonna ride behind the bus,” I call over to him.
“Dad said no.” He covers his head with his hoodie and puts his head in his lap. “Wake me up when we get to Arizona.”
I turn my attention back to the front. Violet is being carried up the stairs by Dad. He gently sets her on one of the seats near the front. Then wipes the oil dripping down his face.
We all wait while Jedidiah has Violet’s wheelchair lifted with the fancy wheelchair lift. He secures it in place and moves to stand beside Dad. Next to Dad, Pastor looks about two feet tall.
“Can I pray now and we declare Divine order over our travels?” Jedidiah asks.
“I want to say a few things first.” Dad unbuttons his tan wool coat. “I’d like everybody’s attention, please.”
Everyone turns their attention to Dad. Brandon and Nam slide their oversize headphones off their heads.
“This is a sensitive situation here,” Dad starts. “I got my entire family on this bus. All the people I love the most. So we’re respectful of each other’s space. We give Pastor Jedidiah the peace he needs to drive us all safely. Everybody stays seated when the bus is moving. We’re courteous always. And I don’t need to remind you all that we got Violet with us, who isn’t exactly feeling well. Let’s try to remember that when we make our planned stops. She gets off first. We are conscious of her and her needs. Am I clear?”
Everyone nods.
Jedidiah points to me. “Indigo. Would you like to say something before we declare Divine order over our travels?”
“Me?”
“Good idea. You should definitely say something. Yeah. This’ll be good.”
“What should I say?” I whisper out of the side of my mouth.
“Um...you asking us?” Mom asks in disbelief.
Nam and Brandon exchange knowing looks and shake their heads.
“Just repeat after me. And make sure your voice is booming. People always trust a booming voice.”
I stand.
“Good morning, family.”
“Good morning, family!” I shout.
“Why are you screaming?” Brandon covers his ears.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I was trying to be booming.”
“Say what?” Michelle asks.
“Just keep going. Repeat after me: I am glad you’re trusting me as we embark on a holy mission ordained by Almighty God herself.”
“I’m not saying that,” I whisper.
“Just say it!”
“Uh...” Everyone gawks at me. “I’m glad you’re trusting me!” Now
Nam covers his ears, too. I lower my voice a bit. “As we embark on a holy mission ordained by Almighty God...”
“Herself.”
“Herself.”
“God’s not a girl!” Brandon shrieks.
“Tell him I am neither boy nor girl.”
I clear my throat. “No! It doesn’t matter. Just...let’s continue. What else should I say?”
“Indigo?” Dad rubs the bald portion of his head. “You sure you all right now?”
“No. I mean...yes.” Voice, I’m tanking here.
“And justice for all. Amen.”
I groan. “That’s it. Thanks for trusting me. That’s all I want to say.”
I slump back down into my seat.
It’s quiet for a few seconds.
“Wow.” Jedidiah finally speaks. “Thanks for sharing those beautiful thoughts and insights, Indigo. And now we declare Divine order over our trip by all repeating after me.” He pushes his palms together over his heart. “I declare Divine order over our trip.”
Everyone repeats it.
“Excellent.” Jedidiah sits in the driver’s seat and the loud beep-beep of the bus sounds more like the pop of a starter pistol at the beginning of a race. He pulls off down the street and we are officially on our way.
chapter nine
We’ve been driving for less than a half hour when it strikes me. I forgot to go to the restroom. I pull Violet’s typed schedule out of my pocket and scan the page to see what time our first scheduled stop is. Uggh. That’s a long time from now. There is no way I can hold it for much longer than a few minutes. Damn Michelle for making me drink that entire bottle of water. Although... I rub my temples. Whatever she gave me...well...it worked.
I stand and scoot down the aisle to kneel beside Dad and Violet. Dad reads news on his phone. I tap him on the shoulder. “Dad?”
He turns to me. “Hon, you need to be seated.”
“I know, but I have to, uh, go to the bathroom.”
Violet looks over at me.
“Sorry, Vee. I know it’s not a scheduled stop. But I really have to go bad.”
“It’s no big deal,” she replies. “We don’t have to follow it, like...perfectly. It’s to help keep us on track is all.”
The Voice in My Head Page 9
